Nothing
by AvengersIsLife
Summary: Natasha is in hiding after the events in Cap2, and the Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. are looking for shelter. Spoilers for Cap2 TWS and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: spoilers for Captain America TWS and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**

* * *

She looked up into the pale face staring back at her. Who was she? She didn't recognize her, but then again, she couldn't even recognize friend from foe these days, when she used to be able to know who to trust fairly quick. Her whole life, the life she had come to tolerate, was pulled out from underneath her in the click of a button. The pull of a trigger. The release of the fear of being known to the world caused her to fall.

The crystal eyes and brunette blonde hair was foreign to her, as well as her name. She looked away from the mirror to the laptop open on the chair. It read 'Natalie Riverstone.' It was the best she had.

She turned back to the woman in the mirror, intrigued by her features. She pulled naggingly at the wimpy strands of blonde, missing the curls and dyed red pigment. She rubbed her eyes, for they were irritated by the contacts she had to wear every moment of every day, aching for their deep green to be seen. She didn't know how the woman in the mirror could do it, but if she could, then Natalie Riverstone could.

Suddenly, she spoke.

"Natalie Riverstone."

The name rolled uncomfortably across her tongue; foreign. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She didn't mean to, but the words came out.

"Natasha Romanoff."

She gasped, and pulled her hands to her mouth, shocked at what she had said, but rather proud. The woman in the mirror, though, felt differently. She looked scared, and a little angry.

The name 'Natasha Romanoff' had flown so easily across her lips, and she knew, deep inside, that that's what she wanted to be called. So what? So the press knows who she is. What's the big deal?

"Well," the woman in the mirror countered back. "You have killed so many. The whole world knows that now."

"But," Natasha countered back. "It was for the good of S.H.I.E.L.D. Now HYDRA has been shoved into the light."

The woman in the mirror rolled her eyes.

"So some good came of it, but think of your ledger, Natalie. Think of everyone you have killed, just because they looked at you the wrong way."

Natasha cringed, but held her ground.

"Do _not, _call me Natalie. I am Natasha Romanoff, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. Those who I have murdered in cold blood, not a day goes by that I do not feel sorry for them, but I will not let it consume me. I have something to live for, _someone, _and I do not care about anyone else's opinion. My ledger can wait. I've got HYDRA to take down."

"But Natalie, do you still have something, or someone to live for? Didn't you live for S.H.I.E.L.D.? Look how that turned out. It's in pieces. _Nothing. _That man you hold so dear to your heart? He could be dead right this very moment, and you wouldn't even know it. Then who would you be? An empty shell, drenched in red. It's your call Natalie."

Natasha shook her head, then sent her hand flying into the glass. It shattered, falling to pieces on the floor, but not before slicing Natasha's hand fairly well. She slumped against the wall, holding her bleeding hand, wondering about what her reflection had said. S.H.I.E.L.D. was down, that much was true, but what about him? Her free hand went instinctively to the tiny silver arrow still chained around her neck. She never took it off.

Was he alive? Could she find some way to communicate with him? Or was she the only S.H.I.E.L.D. agent left standing?

'No,' she thought. There was Rogers, Hill, Wilson, if you want to count Wilson as an agent. She was sure Tony and the others would want to help, but she had no way to talk to them; she didn't trust any means of communication, due to the fact that HYDRA was in so deep.

A sudden noise came from the other side of her door, and she was immediately on her feet. She had been staying in one of her own personal safe houses, unknown to anyone but herself, Fury, Clint, and Coulson, before he died. She didn't know who it was, but she figured they wouldn't be friendly.

Natasha picked up her knife and a gun from the table, then positioned herself beside the door. She listened intently, and decided that there were at least five people creeping up the stairs towards her. She took a deep breath, and waited for the door to open. She heard voices, but couldn't identify them.

Suddenly the door flew open, and the room was illuminated in a brilliant blue light, and Natasha instinctively drew her hand up to shield her eyes. She heard someone yell out.

"Fitz, shut it off!"

The light dimmed, and Natasha stood straight, taking aim at the silhouettes before her. She locked on to one frame, before someone said

"Natalia Alianvoa Romanova. Drop the weapon, or I will make you do a lap."

She nearly fainted. Phil Coulson was alive.


	2. Chapter 2

Natasha blinked, knowing her eyes were betraying her. They had to be. She had visited Coulson's no longer moving body after New York, with a hurt Clint and very emotional Maria Hill. She had held his frigid hand for hours, staring into his emotionless face. She had accepted his death, moved on, but now? Now, Phil Coulson was standing in front her, smiling his knowing smile, throwing jokes at her, threatening to make her do a lap, his favorite punishment. She and Clint had done countless runs around what ever S.H.I.E.L.D. base they were staying at for mouthing off at him.

Natasha sank down to the floor, struggling to breathe. The strangers' faces swam before her, but she zeroed in on the one man who used to mean the world to her. The people around him held back as he rushed to her, still smiling, but a concerned glint now in his eyes. She heard their voices, but she didn't take in anything they were saying. She just focused on him.

"Romanoff, are you alright? Come on. Natasha? Can you say something? Romanoff, don't make me get Fury on the line. He'll chew you out before you can process I'm still alive."

Natasha blinked, processing her former handler's steely grey eyes. He was holding tightly to her arm, and she didn't understand why, until she realized she was shaking. She took a deep breath, calming herself down. Coulson helped her to her feet gently, making sure she was stable. Though she was now able to hold her weight, Natasha still kept a firm grasp around Coulson's arm. He turned her carefully to meet his companions.

"Team, this is Natasha Romanoff, Level 9 S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent, or used to be, before HYDRA came out and went off the deep end, but never mind that now. If you will all make yourselves comfortable in the room across the hall, I need to have a few words with Miss Romanoff."

Natasha took in the four agents now shoveling out of the room. Only one face she recognized, and that was Melinda May, better known as the Calvary. The other three remained unknown. There were two girls, one with long, wavy brown hair and large, brown, wary eyes. The other had mid length, crumpled, dirty blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, with hazel eyes. The last agent was a man, with short, curly light brown hair and intelligent bluish green eyes. They all reluctantly shuffled out of the room, acting as though they wanted to hear what Coulson had to say, but followed his orders nonetheless.

Coulson sat Natasha down carefully into a chair, then pulled up one in front of her. She kept her eyes on him, fearing he would drop out of sight. She gripped the edge of her chair, feeling that she would lose her own grasp on reality. Blood from her wound trickled down her hand and dripped onto the floor.

In less than three days, she had lost her identity, and now found her handler alive. Her head was starting to spin.

"Natasha? You okay?"

She looked up, and found Coulson's eyes trained on her. He knew exactly how to read her, something only he and Clint could do.

"Yeah... It's just... you're alive."

Her voice broke on her last word, and Coulson rubbed his tired eyes.

"For the most part. It's a long story... But first thing's first. I've heard about the events at Washington D.C. with Captain Rogers."

Natasha shook her head.

"No, first, you tell me how the _hell _you're still alive."

She glared at him, then crossed her arms firmly over her chest. Coulson sighed, then laughed.

"Still as stubborn as a mule, aren't you? Natasha, it's a long story-"

"I've got all night."

Coulson shook his head, smiling. He took a deep breath, then looked up into Natasha's blue eyes.

"I was dead, Natasha, for a long time. Now, Fury told me I was out for only eight seconds, and then put in a straw hut in Tahiti, and that's the memory I had, until I had my eyes open. They rewired my brain, and did a bunch of other messed up stuff that I don't care to go into detail with, but-"

Natasha gave him such a look, it chilled his bones.

"Alright, I haven't told anyone, other than my agent Skye, I'll introduce you later, but Natasha, they used some sort of ah, drug, called GH325. It was from a, well, creature. I don't know what it was, but it caused immediate cellular regeneration. It kick started my heart, with the help of the doctors, and now I'm basically a walking zombie. My agent, Skye, was shot by a man named Ian Quinn, and she was going to die. My biochemist saved her with the GH325 that we found in a secret base where I was revived. It was called the T.A.H.I.T.I. project, led by Director Fury, or so I think. Skye healed almost immediately in a few days. Once I realized what the drug's source was though, I tried to stop Simmons, the biochemist, from injecting Skye with it because we had no idea what the effects would be, but it was too late. Now we're both up and walking with no seeming side effects, other than the thought that we were saved by alien blood hanging over our heads."

Natasha's eyes grew huge as Coulson continued speaking, but she remained calm.

"Fury did that to you? He saved you?"

Coulson's face closed off.

"Natasha, I want to believe that Fury did this for me, but I... I was begging to die. I was pleading. I remember now. But all he did was watch."

Natasha looked slightly tearful, but she blinked them back.

"You wanted to... die? Phil-"

"Natasha, if you woke up and found a weird robot massaging your brain and felt a pain so intense you couldn't even breathe, you would want to die too."

Natasha paused, then something arose in her eyes.

"Well, I know Fury's location, so say the word and-"

"Romanoff, we're not going to go kill the one man still capable of keeping this organization together. What's he doing anyway?"

"Trying to stabilize things in Europe. Undercover of course."

Coulson nodded. Natasha relaxed a little, then looked back up at Coulson.

"Let me guess why you're here. HYDRA wants their bloody little hands on you and this Skye, right?"

Coulson nodded.

"For a while we tracked someone called the Clairvoyant. They led a project called 'Centipede' that was studying Dr. Erksine's super soldier serum, as well as gamma radiation, and extremis. They were mixing it all together into a huge concoction that was a big mess. The Clairvoyant took a good man and turned him against us with it, turning him into a cyborg named Deathlok. Deathlok led us to the Clairvoyant, but it was just a decoy. I figured it out, but it was a little too late. Director Fury knew, and that's why he requested me and my team at the Triskelion, but we were redirected to the hub at the last minute by Victoria Hand, who thought we were HYDRA."

"Wait, you were on your way to the Triskelion? So that's why Fury set up that secret meeting that he wouldn't tell me about! I was about to call up Stark and ask him to hack in and get me information on it."

Coulson laughed, and Natasha let out a sheepish grin.

"Trusting Stark now are we? Yes, he wanted me there because he figured out who the Clairvoyant was. You remember John Garrett?"

Natasha's jaw dropped.

"_The _John Garrett? The same John Garrett that worked with you on numerous undercover missions as well as stealth missions? The same John Garrett that trained me and Clint when you were in the hospital with a bullet in your chest? That John Garrett?"

Coulson nodded sadly.

"Yep. And he wasn't even Clairvoyant. Just had a high level security clearance. That's how he knew about our personal lives and such. He's fully HYDRA. At first I suspected Hand, and she suspected me, but Garrett revealed himself. He's in the Fridge now, courtesy of Hand and one of my own agents. We should be hearing from them any day now. Garrett had a partner, Antoine Triplett. He was pretty devastated, but I couldn't trust him. I left him at the Hub while I came and made sure you were all right. Now that Fury's technically dead, I can disobey his direct orders and not get punished, can't I?"

Coulson smiled gently. Natasha, however, looked puzzled.

"How'd you know Fury was alive?"

"Hill. She called me shortly after the events in Washington D.C. and let me know everything. Including your kiss with a certain Captain."

Coulson tried, and failed, to look stern. Natasha looked slightly amused, but uncomfortable.

"It was 100% necessary. Rumlow was after us, and you always told me that public displays of affection make people uncomfortable, so I did what I had to do. By the way, he's HYDRA as well. Oh, and so was Sitwell."

Coulson stood up quickly, knocking his chair to the ground.

"WHAT?"

Natasha looked like she was about to laugh, but there was a concerned look in her eyes.

"Yeah, he was with Senator Stern. Hill was undercover and discovered he was HYDRA too. We uh, interrogated him on information about Pierce's plan. He squealed like a pig."

"Where is he?" Coulson growled.

Natasha looked a little guilty.

"Well, he might have accidentally not on purpose gotten hit by a truck... It was the Winter Soldier's fault!" Natasha whined.

Coulson's face went from anger, to surprise, to almost a dark amusment.

"Thank him for me, will you?"

Natasha snorted.

"He's long gone. Wilson and Rogers are on his tail though. I assume you're familiar with the situation?"

Coulson nodded.

"James Buchanan Barnes, Roger's best friend, brainwashed by HYDRA, used as a personal assassin for Alexander Pierce, part of Dr. Zola's algorithm that would be used to rule the world. Right so far?"

"What'd you do, swallow the report?"

"Hey! It's Steve. What'd you expect? And what do you think of this Wilson character?"

Natasha pondered this for a moment, and then a sly grin slid across her face.

"He does everything that Rogers does, just slower."

Coulson held a questioning glance, when the door was thrown open.

"Sir, Simmons won't stop texting Triplett-"

"It's _Agent_ Triplett Fitz!"

"-but her phone will give away our location and everyone is on our tail-"

"Oh come on! It's not like they'll swoop in and kill us all!"

"That's exactly what they'll do Jemma! And when they put a bullet in our brains, I'm going to look you dead in the eyes and say 'It's all your fault.'"

"Fitz, that's a little cold-"

"You know what else is cold Skye? Jemma's heart! Because _she_ doesn't trust Coulson!"

"That's not true Fitz! I trust Coulson with _my_ life! Why else do you think I'm here?"

"Because you have nowhere else to go because you're glued to my side through everything!"

"You say that like it's a bad thing!"

"It's not, it's just that I've been by your side for the longest time, and you won't leave because of me!"

"Oh, so I can't do anything without you? God, Fitz, it's like I'm weak or something!"

"Well, No Jemma, that's not what I meant,"

"Oh _what do you mean_ Fitz, because you're not being entirely clear-"

"FITZ. SIMMONS. SHUT UP!"

Coulson yelled over the two quarreling agents. They looked up at him, their faces flushed. It was the man with the curly hair and the girl with the dirty blonde hair that Natasha had seen earlier. The other two, Calvary and the girl with the wavy brown hair, hung back, not wanting to interfere with their fellow agent's shouting match. Natasha was slightly amused; their argument seemed kind of petty, but if the Calvary was wary enough to hang back, then she wasn't about to get involved.

"Simmons, I'm sorry, but until we can hook up a secure line, you need to shut off your phone and remove the battery. Same goes for everyone. We're in the dark people, and we need to stay that way. Agent Romanoff here is going to help us out until we figure out what to do, alright? So take a deep breath, and get used to the idea of being invisible. Now, Romanoff, do you have control over the building? Or just these two rooms?"

"No, sir, I have control over the building, but only the top two floors are habitable. There is a total of eight rooms, including the two bathrooms. There's a fully stocked kitchen on the lower floor connected to the living room, a lab station, a makeshift containment area, and two bedrooms. Right now I am using one room, but we can easily lay out a few extra mattresses," Natasha explained.

Coulson nodded then turned to his team.

"Romanoff, you know Agent May-" Coulson gestured to the Calvary. Natasha nodded, giving just a hint of a smile. "This is Agent Jemma Simmons, a highly intelligent biochemist, partners with Agent Leo Fitz, engineer-" Fitz and Simmons shared a rather intense glare before looking away in opposite directions. "And this is Agent Skye. She's a pretty good hacker, best I've ever seen." Skye blushed slightly, and gave a small wave. Natasha nodded.

"It's nice to meet you all. I hope Coulson hasn't acted like the giant mother hen he is. Have you told them about that one time in Tokyo? Where you actually told Clint off for getting drunk, but then-"

"Okay, Romanoff, don't influence them. They know too much already. It's getting late, so do you mind helping me set up a few sleeping areas? Skye, you and FitzSimmons go check out the lab and see if you have what you need to establish a secure line to Victoria Hand."

Natasha led the way out of the room, with Coulson and May trailing behind. Skye turned to Simmons and Fitz, who looked like they were about to start their fight again.

"Can't you two just drop it?" she asked as Simmons opened her mouth to start it.

They both turned to Skye, looking rather guilty, before leaving the room to find the lab.

* * *

"Sir, have you heard any word from Barton?" Natasha asked as they pulled a mattress from the rubble of the lower rooms.

The building they were staying was an old apartment building, destroyed by a fire a long time ago. The top two floors had been renovated though, made livable by some hard work.

Coulson looked up at his former agent. "No, I'm sorry, I haven't. I've been trying to keep tabs on you two, and the last I heard, he was somewhere in England, doing some handover with a German Agent."

At his words, Natasha looked up.

"German?"

"He might not be HYDRA Natasha."

"But still. There's always the chance."

Coulson shook his head. "Now you're just getting paranoid. Clint's probably off somewhere, on some island, eating coconut and waiting for a passing boat to come pick his sorry self up and take him back to America, where he can raise hell about HYDRA. Oh, I'd love to see what he would do if he got his hands on Sitwell. That's something I'd pay good money to see."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Do you think, if we establish a secure line, that we could try and contact him?"

Coulson shrugged. "I don't see why not. We can talk to Skye and see what she thinks."

May met them at the top of the stairs and held the door open for them. Natasha nodded to her, but didn't get any recognition back.

"What's up with Calvary?" asked Natasha as they moved out of earshot.

"You know not to call her that, Natasha, so don't. You're egging on the new recruits. The story keeps getting bigger and bigger. She's mad, because I haven't forgiven her yet. She's been spying on me, reporting back to Director Fury on whether or I'm staying sane or not."

Natasha dropped her jaw, opening her mouth wide. "_What?_"

Coulson nodded. "Yeah, I know. Apparently Fury formed this team just to test whether or not I was going insane. That, and he thought I was under the influence of HYDRA."

Natasha snickered.

"What's so funny?" Coulson asked.

"Well," she started, wiping a pretend tear from her eye. "You, associated with HYDRA? I mean come on. You'd kill a fly if it landed on Steve without his permission. Oh, and, by the way, he has your cards now."

"Not associated, just influenced- wait. Steve has my cards? _Steve Rogers, **Captain America, **_has my cards? I think I'm going to faint."

"Don't," Natasha advised, as they were going up the second set of stairs.

They pulled three mattresses to the top floor, and arranged the places to sleep. Coulson would take the spare bedroom on the lower floor, and May volunteered to sleep in the living area/kitchen next to Coulson's room. Coulson gave her a glare, but let it slide. Fitz, Simmons, and Skye wanted to sleep in the lab, just in case some sudden thought came to them in the night and they needed to get to work immediately. Natasha was fine with whatever, retreating to her room as everyone got settled in.

In the lab, Fitz, Simmons, and Skye set up their equipment before turning in. Skye kept running Agent Romanoff's name over in her head. She knew she had heard it somewhere.

"FitzSimmons," she aloud. "Who's Natasha Romanoff? I mean, I know she's a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent and blah blah blah, but who is she, really?"

Fitz and Simmons looked at each other, not knowing where to start.

"Well," began Simmons. "She's one of, well, not one. She's _the _best agent on active duty, unless you want to count Agent Barton. She's good, top notch, can kill you with a look and beat any lie detector test there is, good. She came to S.H.I.E.L.D., what, eight, nine years ago? When she was only sixteen. She had been a Russian spy, turned to S.H.I.E.L.D. for some unknown reason. All that is openly know to the public was that she was paired up with Agent Barton and placed under the care of Coulson."

Skye's eyes grew huge. "Barton and Romanoff... They're Avengers!"

Fitz looked stupified. "Uh, DUH. Did you _see _her muscles?"

This made Simmons whack him on the arm, which caused another, less quiet bickering episode, but Skye wasn't listening. They were in the presence of an _Avenger. _She couldn't wait to talk to Agent Romanoff tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Fret not, my friends. The man with the bow will make an appearance soon!**

* * *

Coulson awoke the nest morning in a cold sweat. As usual, he had had a nightmare, but it wasn't his usual nightmare of getting a massage in Tahiti changing over to his brain getting rewired. It was an old nightmare, usual way back when he was still Natasha's and Clint's mentor. It was of Natasha and Clint getting taken captive, and him getting to them too late.

Realizing that he could prove his dream wrong, Coulson pulled back the covers, and threw his legs over the side of the bed. The clock said that it was almost eight. Coulson carefully walked out of the room, taking extra caution at the sight of May asleep on the couch. As he passed by her, a floor board underneath his foot creaked, and he heard May sigh.

"If you want to leave the room, just walk out. You have a better chance of getting attacked by me if you try to stay quiet," she mumbled, before turning her back to Coulson.

Coulson nodded, then strode swiftly from the room. He lept up the stairs two at a time, before falling back into quiet mode as he neared the lab. He heard voices from within, but didn't want to stop by and talk yet. His fear that he wouldn't find Natasha in her room grew, and he practically ran to her room.

Just outside, Coulson took a deep breath, then carefully turned the knob. It was still dark inside, the light from the dusty widnows just minting the room. Coulson scanned the room quickly, locating Natasha on a cot on the floor in the far right corner.

Coulson let out his breath, leaning against the doorway for support. He ran a shaky hand across his face, trying to calm himself down. Natasha was safe. But what about Clint?

Whole new scary possibilities ran through Coulson's mind, but he tried to suppress them. One problem at a time.

Natasha stirred, and she suddenly sat up, drawing a gun from under her pillow. She took aim at Coulson, and it took her a second before she dropped the weapon, curling into herself, pressing her palms to her eyes. The fist that she had sent into the mirror was wrapped up in a sterile white bandage, but blood was beginning to seep through it. Coulson sighed, and walked into the room, moving towards his fragile agent.

He sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shaking body. She wasn't crying, but whatever she had been dreaming about was enough to unhinge her for a moment. Eventually she looked up.

"Is he going to be alright?"

Coulson didn't need to play 20 questions to know who she was talking about. "I sure hope so," he whispered.

Natasha hugged him back, and they sat that way for a few moments, trying to ease the other's pain.

"You came in here to check on me just like you used to do at base. Did you have the nightmare again?"

Coulson smiled. "Yeah, I did. I haven't dreamed about that in at least a year. I had to make sure at least one of you was alright."

Natasha nodded, and silence fell between them once more. They didn't break apart until Agent May burst in. Once she caught sight of the two, she started backing out of the room, but Natasha shook her head.

"No, May, it's okay. We were just crying about stuff that's out of our control." Natasha gave a weak smile, then hid her gun back under her pillow.

May gave Coulson a quizzical look, but shook it off. "Coulson, FitzSimmons think they might have something, and they're all asking about food."

Coulson smiled, then nodded, dismissing May from the room. "I'll be there in a minute," he told her.

He turned back to Natasha, who was watching him intently.

"Got any food?"

Natasha laughed, then pulled her blonde hair back into a ponytail. "I'll make breakfast as soon as I get dressed. Go take care of FitzSimmons."

Coulson nodded, then walked towards the door. Once halfway there, he turned back to her.

"Natasha?"

"Hm?"

"What's with the dyed hair and contacts?"

Natasha looked up, her crystal eyes focusing in on him.

"I'm supposed to be in hiding, but I obviously didn't hide well enough."

Coulson laughed, then exited the room shaking his head.

In the lab, FitzSimmons, Skye, and May were all starring at a screen, while Fitz was on a rant about something on the screen. Coulson walked in, and they all turned around to look at him. He raised an eye brow.

"What's up?"

Fitz took a deep breath, before going back into his rant.

"Well, sir, due to the availability of the SHIELD com link unit that all SHIELD agents used to tune in to to listen for missions, if Jemma and I could create a beacon for the signal to reach-"

"Then we can focus the signal and communicate safely with Agent Hand," finished Simmons.

They said this all very fast, faster than Coulson could comprehend, so he turned to Skye for the translation.

"Basically, if we create a device to concetrate the signal, we can talk with Hand without worrying about HYDRA overhearing it."

"How?" asked Coulson.

"No SHIELD agent uses this anymore. It's been abandoned, just like every other SHIELD signal," explained Skye.

Coulson nodded his head stiffly, still not wanting to believe that SHIELD no longer existed. Simmons turned to Fitz and began speaking very fast with very large words. Skye examined the screen, where a model for the device was pulled up. May just leaned against the wall, not saying anything.

Natasha walked in, dressed in jeans and a purple t-shirt. She smiled as she took in the team; they reminded her of the Avengers.

"Anyone want food?"

That got everyone's attention.

* * *

After a good breakfast of eggs, bacon, and pancakes, courtesy of Natasha, the team got to work. Fitz and Simmons strode about the lab, shutting everyone out as they constructed the device. Skye kept trying to get in touch with Ward, but he didn't respond to any of her calls; Coulson had given her permission to try and get in touch with him periodically. May and Coulson spent most of their time bickering about Director Fury, and the problem at hand. Natasha just tried to stay out of all of it.

She walked about the room, recognizing some terms used by FitzSimmons, breaking up the occasional fight between May and Coulson, but really spent most of her time sitting with Skye, who she realized was a _huge _Avengers fan.

"So, Tony, what's he like?"

Natasha grinned. "Self centered, a thorn in my side, but great when it comes to taking out aliens."

Skye laughed, regained her composure, then thought up another question. "Rogers? Steve Rogers? Is it true that he and Tony hate each other?"

"Well, sort of. They just don't see eye to eye. Tony is all technology, while Steve still uses a typewriter. They got along alright after New York though."

"How was New York? What was it like?"

"To be honest? Really, really, scary."

Skye's eyes widened. Natasha shrugged.

"That's the truth. Imagine a giant portal in the sky with an everlasting army flying out of it. You just didn't think it would end, and that you'd die killing aliens."

"Wow. Not exactly what I expected to hear."

Natasha smirked. "All right, enough questions. My turn. How's Coulson doing?"

Skye cast her an uneasy look, not knowing how much she knew.

"He's, er, alright. A little shaken, but alright."

"Skye, don't lie to me. I know about the GH325, and how it saved both you, and him."

Skye's eyes grew big again, but she tried to hide her astonishment. "Oh, um, well, we're both really confused. We don't know exactly what to do now that we know that the drug came from an alien."

Natasha looked up, and found Agent May staring straight at them. Natasha grinned at her, and she moved away, towards Simmons.

"I'm pretty sure May was eavesdropping."

Skye glanced up, then rolled her eyes. "I can't believe what she did to us."

"Don't blame her. She was just keeping an eye out for Coulson. Fury always has eyes everywhere, which is funny, because he only has one himself."

Skye and Natasha both burst out laughing, and the whole team looked over at them. They quieted down, but their giggles continued for a while.

The rest of the day went by without anything exciting happening, other than Fitz taking a break and reading online that a new species of monkey had been discovered. When the night had finally rolled around though, the device was nearly functional.

After a few more adjustments, Simmons and Fitz took a step back from the device, which looked like an old radio mixed in with a satellite. The rest of the team gathered around the table, staring at the contraption.

"How does it work?" asked Natasha.

"You just press this button here, then log in the general location of where you want the signal to go. Coulson got in touch with Hand earlier to tell her to tune in to the channel. Once we start it up, we should have a direct link."

As Fitz spoke, Simmons leaned forward, and started up the machine. It whirred and buzzed, flashing its lights, and then it all stopped, except for the steady blinking of a green light. Coulson leaned forward, and spoke into the device.

"Agent Hand? It's Agent Coulson. Do you copy?"

Nothing followed except static.

"Agent Hand? Do you copy?"

Nothing.

Coulson looked up at Fitz's and Simmons's frustrated faces.

"It should work. We calibrated the link to the location that you gave us, along with adjusting for interfering factors. Unless Agent Hand is not tuned in to the line, it should be working," explained Simmons as Fitz checked over their work.

After a few more tries, it became apparent that Agent Hand wasn't able to communicate with them. The team decided to turn in for the night, FitzSimmons still grumbling about their lack of success. They left the device on a table downstairs, where they planned to look over it the next morning.

Once Natasha knew that May was asleep, she snuck in quietly, grabbed the device, then returned to her room. If the device did work, and he was listening, and she prayed he was, then she could get in touch and tell him where she was.

Natasha hit the button and started up the device. "Clint? Can you hear me? It's Natasha. Please. If you're there, respond. Clint? Hello?"

Natasha tried to get it to work for an hour, with no success. She returned it back downstairs, then locked herself in her room, trying to hide her disappointment.

* * *

Not too far away from where Natasha and Coulson's team were settling in for the night, a figure with a quiver strapped to his back and a bow in his hand adjusted the frequency on his radio. He still occasionally checked the SHIELD frequency, even though it was useless now. He was therefore surprised when he heard a voice on the line. Chills went down his back as he recognized the voice.

"Clint? Can you hear me? It's Natasha. Please. If you're there, respond. Clint? Hello?"

He grinned, and wanted to respond, but he didn't have the technology to. Instead, he checked his direction, and headed off due west, just as it started to rain.


	4. Chapter 4

**No, I haven't died, but I have been away at my Grandma's lake house, where WiFi is nonexistent. I'm back now though, and I plan to write and write and write!**

**But before I go on, I must rant. I apologize for this, and feel free to skip over it! **

**I'm highly afraid that Hawkeye is going to be killed off in the upcoming Age Of Ultron movie. I feel like it's either going to be him, or Black Widow, because they are apparently the least liked Avengers. That is not the case with me! They are my favorite, as you can tell, because they are my favorite to write. They have so much to offer, and they're both so amazing and I really hope they don't get killed off! If either of them die, then I'll be done. I'll be so beyond done. I'll probably roll up in a ball, and not do anything but cry for a year. Or two. Depends on what happens.**

**Rant done. Sort of. :)**

* * *

When Natasha woke up the next morning, the frigid, gray, rain pounding on the roof mirrored her mood. Her chest felt as cold as the window she put her hand against, looking out at the gloomy sky.

She had no way of contacting Clint. None. He was out there somewhere, probably trying to find a way to her, she hoped.

He couldn't be dead. He just couldn't. Without him, Natasha was pretty sure that she would stop living. Sure, she'd still be breathing, but she wouldn't be alive. She was never alive unless she was with Clint.

Natasha looked up as she heard the familiar sounds of arguing coming from the lab; It sounded like FitzSimmons was at it again. She estimated that it was around 6:45.

Natasha sighed, then pulled her knees up to her chest. Her brownish blonde hair fell limply into her face. She blew a jet of air from her mouth upwards, trying to push it out of the way, but it just fell back into place. She rolled her eyes, then tugged it behind her ear. She looked up into the mirror.

She was shocked by how afraid and weak she looked. Natasha Romanoff wasn't weak, or afraid, and she _certainly _wasn't a blonde.

'But Natalie Riverstone is,' she thought. She shook her head roughly. She wasn't Natalie Riverstone. She was Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow.

Natasha wiped her face of all facial expressions, leaving a blank mask. She smiled, and the evil grin that lit her face actually gave her shivers.

That is who she is. She's a monster, playing for the good guys. She fights dirty, and gives it her all, because that's who she is. She's the Black Widow, and no one, not Rumlow, not Pierce, not HYDRA can take that away from her.

True, she hasn't been herself lately, but she's back now. Back, and ready for blood. Ready to open her eyes and face the red she always seems to be drowning in.

Natasha swung her legs over to the side of the mattress, and stood up. She switched her tang-top and shorts out for tight black jeans, and a low cut blood red shirt with an open back, that had black lines zigzagging across it. She made sure her necklace was prominent on her bare chest.

She pulled on her combat boots, and laced them up with a renewed ferocity. She was done hiding. She was done playing scared. She was ready to take action.

Natasha checked herself in the mirror, and thought of one last thing. She rolled her eyes upwards, then slipped out the blue contacts. She smiled as her emerald eyes finally saw the light. She flicked the contacts off of her fingers, not bothering to check where they fell; she was done with them.

Natasha pulled open her door, then strode to the lab. She lingered by the doorway, took a deep breath, then walked in.

Coulson and Skye were talking over something, Fitz and Simmons were yelling at each other in loud voices, and May was leaning against a wall, her eyes trained on the doorway.

Natasha cleared her throat, and everyone looked up at her. Fitz's jaw dropped, Simmons and Skye's eyes grew huge, May just blinked, and Coulson smiled, shaking his head. Natasha gave Coulson a derisive sneer.

"Yes, Agent Romanoff?"

"We're running low on supplies. I'm heading into town. I thought maybe some of you might like to come. Plus I'm doing a little recon. I want to make sure you didn't attract any trouble, since you seem to have a knack for that."

Coulson made a face at Natasha, and she just winked back, grinning.

Simmons realized that Fitz was still staring, so she stepped on his foot. Simmons turned back to Natasha.

"You know, I could use some more supplies for the lab. I'll go along with, if you don't mind."

Natasha nodded, then moved her eyes over to Skye, who stepped forward.

"Me too. I need to get out of here. It's getting a little crowded, if you know what I mean," she added.

Natasha smiled and shook her head. "I understand. I hate this place, and there's a story behind my hatred, but that's for a different day. Come on, it's a little bit of a walk. Hope you two aren't afraid of getting a little wet."

* * *

"Ohh! What's that?"

"Uh, those are scarves."

"But they don't look like scarves. They're so pretty!"

Natasha laughed as Simmons and Skye pushed through a group of people to get to the brightly colored scarves. She followed closely behind.

When the three had left the safe house, the rain was still coming down, but once they reached the shops, it had slowed to a steady drizzle, then stopped completely. The sun was actually trying to peak out, but the clouds hadn't relinquished their grip yet.

They had walked a few miles to a small town, where tiny shops had been put up all over the place. It wasn't what Skye had expected; she had anticipated a few buildings and shops, maybe even a strip mall, but it was all people with carts selling strange items.

There were other shoppers there; some women had their heads covered, and some men were avoiding eye contact. Then you had the people who were definitely American, because they were wearing neon and taking pictures of absolutely everything. Coulson hadn't told the team what country they were headed to, so Skye thought that they were still in America, but she was wrong. The signs and advertisements were written in a foreign language, so she couldn't read them, but Simmons seemed to roughly know their location.

"Agent Romanoff, isn't that Russian?" Simmons asked, pointing to a sign nearby.

Natasha smiled. "Da,"

Skye's eyes grew huge. "Do you know Russian?"

Natasha turned her eyes upon the agent. "Русский, латинский, немецкий, испанский, китайский, японский, и плюс некоторые. Russian, Latin, German, Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, and plus some," she added, seeing their confused faces.

Both Skye and Simmons looked at her admiringly.

"I knew you were Russian, I just didn't really put two and two together. I actually feel kind of dumb now," mumbled Skye, kicking a rock. Natasha laughed.

"Don't feel dumb Skye. From what I've heard from Coulson, you're one of the brightest around, besides Jemma."

This made both Skye and Simmons blush modestly. Natasha watched the two fondly for a few moments, then scanned their surrounding area. So far no one seemed out of the ordinary, except for one man who was quite possibly carrying a gun, but Natasha passed him off because she realized he was a shop keeper.

She led Skye and Simmons around the carts, guiding them towards what they needed, yet laughing when they went completely off track. She felt bad, for she had put on her false and cheery mask for their trip, but she had to keep aware of everything around her. She had already been caught off guard twice in one month, and she wasn't about to let it happen again.

Eventually Simmons found a cart that had a few instruments on it that she needed for the machine, so the trio stopped to have a good look at the supplies. Skye leaned in and helped out Simmons, while Natasha kept look out. Once she felt that things were all clear, Natasha walked up and stood beside the cart keeper, who was watching Skye and Simmons appreciatively.

"Алло," Natasha nodded to him. **(Hello)**

The cart keeper nodded back, and gave a friendly smile. Natasha returned it, but knew that it held no warmth.

"Как это бизнес?" Natasha asked politely. **(How is business?)**

"Хорошо! Хотя не так много людей имеют свой интерес друзьями в моих деталей." **(Good! Though not many people have your friends interest in my items.)**

Natasha grinned and gave a small laugh.

"Они довольно умный, да? Они приехали из Америки. Так же, как многие из этих других людей, я вижу," Natasha said as she looked around at the large crowds of American tourists. **(They're rather intelligent, yes? They're visiting from America. Just like a lot of these other people, I see.)**

The man nodded and chuckled.

"Ах да, американцы. Где бы мы были без них? Возможно без работы. Я должен сказать, что, хотя, это повезло мы открыли для бизнеса сегодня." **(Ah yes, Americans. Where would we be without them? Probably without jobs. I have to say, though, it's lucky we opened up for business today.)**

Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"Почему? Что случилось?" **(Why? What happened?)**

"Дождь, и кто-то бродит прошлой ночью. Мы послали несколько человек за ними, но кто бы это ни был исчез. Мы боялись, что это был один из тех двойных агентов, что все, кажется, говорить об этих дней. Есть много тех, кто вокруг, по-видимому." **(The rain, and someone was prowling around last night. We sent a few people after them, but whoever it was disappeared. We feared that it was one of those double agents that everyone seems to be talking about these days. There are a lot of those around, apparently.)**

Natasha played it off cooler than a cucumber. She hid her real emotions down underneath her mask, and made sure her face was on straight.

"Да, они опасны. Тем не менее, я рад, что вы открыли!" **(Yes, they are dangerous. Still, I'm glad you opened up!)**

The man grinned and nodded as Skye and Simmons approached them with their desired parts. Natasha paid the man, said goodbye, then led the way over to a supplies cart. She was battling inwardly as to whether she should tell Skye and Simmons about her conversation with the man, but decided to tell Coulson first; they were on his team, so he should be the one to tell them, if he even wanted to.

Skye ran through a list that she brought, and Natasha helped her find the things she needed. Simmons wandered a little ways, looking at the different cultures in the area.

Two hours later, the trio was ready to leave. Natasha led the way, carrying a portion of the large bags that they were now weighted down with. She planned on taking the long way back to make sure that no one was following, when it started raining again. Despite her best wishes, she headed straight back to the safe house, but sat by the window for a few hours after, just to make sure.

She thought she had seen someone in a tree as they were leaving, and had done a double take to make sure it wasn't _him_, and found out that it was nothing more than a large bird's nest, perched high up in the limbs.

* * *

He watched her from the top of a tree. Her bright blonde hair was hard to miss with his sharp eyes. He had been expecting her usual red color, but anything goes when your whole agency has been taken down and you're no longer under their employment.

He watched her walk along with a couple of other girls who both had brownish hair, and decided that they were not a threat. He couldn't be too careful though; the first time he had met Natasha, he had blown her off as nothing more than a scared little girl. Little did he know.

One thing was for sure though; he didn't like her hair blonde, or straight. She could go as wild and as crazy as she wanted, but her hair was his favorite thing about her, and he was upset that she had messed that up.

Determined, he dropped from the tree, passing a bird's nest on his way down, then wove his way into the little town of shops in front of him. He searched up and down the rows of carts for dyes, and finally found some three rows over. He spent another hour picking out the perfect shade of red, and he knew exactly what he wanted, for her hair's color was imprinted in his mind. He would never forget how beautiful it looked in the sun.

Just when he passed over his money to the cart keeper, a large raindrop hit his sunglasses, and left a streak right down the center of the left glass. He grabbed the bag from the man, then looked up at the sky. He wanted to track her back to the safe house now, but he knew he would have to wait until nightfall. He wanted to surprise her.

'But then again,' Clint thought as he ran over to the woods and took shelter as it started to pour. 'When has surprising Tasha ever been a good idea?'

* * *

**I'm dragging it out. Mwahaha. Don't worry though, the reunion is coming. I promise!**


	5. Chapter 5

Natasha didn't turn around when she heard him come up behind her. She knew who it was. She could tell be the change in air pressure, and by the sounds he made when he walked.

"I'm not in the mood for a pep talk, Phil."

Coulson grinned as he pulled up a chair next to Natasha, who still had her eyes trained on the window. It was steadily growing dark outside, and everyone had decided to stop working for the night. They all sat around the lab, drinking beer, and just enjoying themselves. Natasha was there too, except she kept out of the group, watching the window in the corner, keeping a look out just in case. Coulson had told everyone to leave her alone, and after a while, retreated over to sit beside her.

"I'm not here to give you one. I'm here to ask what brought about the mood change."

Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"You took out your contacts, and I'm pretty sure that it was your straightener that I found in the trash can out back."

Natasha grinned, then leaned across Coulson and grabbed his drink from the table. Coulson made a halfhearted grab for it, but Natasha leaned out of his reach. She took a sip, then handed it back to Coulson, who grabbed it roughly out of her reach.

"What changed Natasha?"

"Nothing, sir. I can have mood swings, can't I?" she said as she reached for his drink again. Coulson pushed it out of her reach.

"Natasha."

She cringed, for Coulson was using his 'Natasha I care about you a lot so you better tell me what's going on' tone. She sighed, then turned her head and looked him straight in his eyes.

"I realized that I'm not helping anyone, not myself, not you guys, not S.H.I.E.L.D., and definitely not Clint, if all I do is sit around and mope. So what my identity is known all over the world? Why does it matter?"

"Natasha, it matters because you like to keep things hidden. Do you remember how long it took for you to let me know about your history? I'm still fuzzy about it in some parts. You don't like to let people know who you are. You put on a mask, and let people pretend that they know who you are. The only person you fully trust is Clint."

Natasha looked down at her hands.

"How did you do it?" she asked in a small voice.

"Do what?"

"How did you deal with the fact that you were killed, and when you woke up, you couldn't talk to anyone you used to know?"

Coulson scrunched his in concentration, not sure where this was headed.

"To be honest Natasha, I'm still dealing with it. I'm not sure why Fury didn't want me to talk to you or anyone else after New York was over. I was confused, hurt, and shocked. I had to go to medical twice a week, even though I was perfectly fine. I couldn't talk to any of you to tell you how much I missed you. I couldn't call Audrey and tell her that I loved her. I was bored, so I got permission to put a team together. I hid everything that I was feeling, and put on my mask. I told myself 'I'm going to be just like Natasha.' I put all of my negative thoughts away, and moved myself for the better. I pushed myself to do good again."

Natasha made a noise in her throat.

"Phil, don't you see? I don't move to do better again. I just do whatever benefits me. I'm not like you, or Clint. I'm not good."

Coulson's eyes blazed.

"You're not good? You do whatever benefits you? No, Natasha, no. That's not the woman I saw in New York. The woman I saw in New York was fighting for a purpose; a good purpose. Sure, she started out fighting for her own causes, the safety of her best friend, but in the end she risked everything for the safety of humanity. That's who I see when I look into your eyes, no matter what color they are."

Natasha couldn't hold Coulson's gaze, so she looked down at her hands. Her cheeks burned red. Coulson wrapped an arm around her, and she leaned into his hug.

"Thanks, Phil."

"Nice pep talk, right?"

"Oh, shut up."

Natasha flashed a grin, then leaned her arm around Coulson to grab at his drink. He caught on to what she was doing, and grabbed her arm, which caused her to spill it all over their backs. They jumped up, laughing, and Natasha threw an ice cube at Coulson, then they both went to grab towels to clean themselves up.

May was watching the pair through narrowed eyes, her hand clutched tightly around the bottle in her hand. Skye noticed, and glanced back at the laughing agents.

"Relax, May. They're just having a little bit of fun."

May rolled her eyes, while FItzSimmons glanced up.

"I know that, Skye. I'm just not sure about Romanoff. Something's up with her, but I just can't place it."

"I think she's alright," said FItz, taking a swig from his glass. Simmons rolled her eyes.

"You like her just because she's pretty."

"I do not!"

"Oh you do too and don't deny it-"

"I'm not denying anything-"

Fitz and Simmons went into another round of arguing, so Skye turned to May.

"Why don't you think Romanoff's alright?"

May glanced at Skye, and realized that she was posing a serious question.

"Well, it's just that when I remembered her, she wasn't so vulnerable. She wouldn't cry to Coulson about whatever is wrong with her. She wouldn't show her moods as much as she does now. She would act unfazed, as if the whole world was carried on her shoulders, and she couldn't care any less. Now, she's weak; sad; and I have no idea why."

Skye scrunched together her eyebrows in concentration.

"To me, I think she's all right. I feel like she doesn't open up at all. She's hard to read."

May gave a smirk.

"She's not hard to read if you know what you're looking for. Something's wrong, but I just can't place it."

Skye thought for a few more seconds, then shrugged, and turned to watch the ongoing argument between Fitz and Simmons. Somehow Fitz had managed to change the subject back to Agent Triplett, and Simmons was fuming.

May left their group, and walked up to Natasha and Coulson, who were still bickering about the spilled drink.

"That was all you Romanoff-"

"I spilled it because you grabbed my hand!"

"Yeah, because it was my drink! I'm not Clint, I'm not just going to let you mooch off of me-"

"Uh, sir?" interjected May.

Coulson and Natasha looked up, and both were wearing bemused smiles.

"I wanted to know what the plan is. How long are we staying here? If the device doesn't work, shouldn't we head back to the hub to see if there have been any developments?"

Coulson gave May a weary glance.

"May, can't you just relax for five minutes? Oh, no, I know what it was. Spying on us for Fury was too much excitement, wasn't it? Now I bet you're bored out of your skull-"

"Excuse him, May, he's slightly drunk," said Natasha as she kicked Coulson in the shins.

May narrowed her eyes and Coulson.

"No, it's fine. I deserve it. I should have told them."

"And risked your job? Nah, May. You did what you had to do."

"But at what costs?"

Natasha cleared open another chair for May to sit down in, and handed her a beer. Coulson was sort of out of it, overcome with exhaustion, and a little bit of alcohol. Natasha and May acted as though he wasn't there.

"Listen to me when I tell you that Coulson will come around. Sure, he'll be pissed for a while, but he'll calm down, and then apologize for his jerkish behavior. At least, that's the way he was before he, you know, died."

May shook her head.

"He's different now. He doesn't take things as lightly as he used to. But then again, he has been given a second chance at life. I just wish he could understand the situation that I was placed in."

"He will, eventually. You might have to physically make him look, but he'll see where you're coming from. There were countless times where Clint, or, Agent Barton and I would completely screw up on a mission and go against orders, and Phil would be furious with us for days, but once we filed our reports, and he took the time to read them, then he'd understand where we were coming from. You just have to wait."

May gave a small smile, and nodded. Across the room, FItz and Simmons seemed to have reached their limit of patience from Skye, for she was standing up now and giving them both a rather stern talking to. Coulson had fallen asleep with his head on the table, and was snoring gently.

"Speaking of Agent Barton, you two were really close, weren't you?" asked May, feeling slightly better now.

Natasha nodded as she took a sip from her drink.

"Yeah, he was my best partner. And my only partner," she added as an afterthought.

"How's he doing?"

Natasha just shrugged, determined not to give anything away.

"I don't know, I haven't heard from him. I tried to contact him, but no luck so far. I'm sure he's fine, probably roughing it out in some unknown patch of woods, waiting for the right moment to show his face again."

Natasha smirked as she said this, for she could just imagine her partner, held up in some tree, stretched out on a branch, eating some poor creature that he had killed with his bow and arrows. May watched her closely.

"Wasn't Phil his SO?" asked May, realizing the connection between Coulson, Barton, and Romanoff.

"Yep. Coulson pulled Barton out of the circus when he was around eighteen. Something like that. He trained him for about two years, and then I showed up. We've been the three musketeers ever since."

May and Natasha shared a grin, as May understood why Natasha wasn't herself lately; Natasha wasn't one hundred percent sure if Barton was alright, and it was unnerving her. The pair looked up as Skye stormed away from FitzSimmons, who were muttering darkly, and plopped into a chair beside May.

"I've had it with them! All they do is argue, and I've had enough! I told them that if they don't argue for a for the rest of this week, I'll let Simmons use my phone to call Triplett, and I'll print out a chart of the new monkey species for Fitz."

"Why can you use your phone, but Jemma can't?" inquired Natasha.

"Because, before Ward left, I fixed a frequency between our two phones that doesn't require a satellite. By the time the end of the week rolls around, Ward thinks that they should be back at the Hub, which is where Agent Triplett is, so Ward can just hand off his phone so that Simmons can talk to Trip."

Natasha nodded, but May looked up.

"If you did that, then why aren't we able to get in touch with Hand? Couldn't Ward just hand the phone to her, so that she can tell us what's going on?"

"Coulson knows about the link, and has used it to contact her before, but he wants to get communications back up between bases, not just between two cell phones," explained Skye.

"But if you connected the link between you and Ward's phones, why don't we use that technology to create a device to get communications back up?" asked Natasha.

"That's what we tried to do with the device, but either Hand didn't have the right technology, or the device wasn't built correctly. Simmons got some new parts, so we're going to mess around with it tomorrow."

Natasha and May nodded, then May checked her watch.

"It's getting late. I'm going to drag him back downstairs and then turn in for the night. I'll see you all in the morning," said May as she leaned over to pick up Coulson. Natasha stood up and grabbed his feet, while May lifted him from underneath his arms.

"Thanks," she said as Natasha backed out of the room. Skye and FitzSimmons looked on, their faces etched with laughter at the sight of their boss being carried from the room.

"No problem," Natasha replied.

Natasha led the way down the stairs, and then helped May get Coulson into the bed. She smiled as Coulson let out a sleepy grunt, then rolled over and buried his face in the mattress.

"He didn't even have five beers! I don't remember him being that weak."

May looked up.

"He hasn't slept in a while. Sure, he'll get a few hours of sleep in every now and then, but it's been a while since he's been this knocked out," explained May.

"Why?" asked Natasha.

"Nightmares."

That's all May had to say, and Natasha understood fully. It was the unspoken code between field agents, where if you didn't get any sleep, it was because of one thing, and one thing only. Sleep is the place where you're at your most vulnerable position, and for agents who are supposed to be on their toes at all times, nightmares can unhinge them for a while.

Natasha said goodnight to May, then retreated back upstairs to her own room. She stopped in on the lab, and found Fitz and Simmons fast asleep, while Skye lay in the middle of them, reading something on her phone. Natasha waved at her, and Skye smiled and waved back, then Natasha left, and closed the door to her own room. She pulled off her clothes, then slipped back into her tang-top and shorts. She cut off the light, crawled underneath her covers, and lay there, awake and thinking.

She wondered what it must be like for you to be declared dead, revived, and then told that you can't go back to the life you once had. She thought about May, and about how tough she was no matter what, and found herself wishing to be more like her. She thought about Fitz and Simmons, and how she wished that they would just both admit how much they care about each other, rather than go at each others throats. She thought about Skye, and how she would have made a fine S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. But mostly, she thought about Clint.

Natasha kept telling herself to think logically, and that she may have to face the fact that he's dead, but she didn't want to believe it. Some small part of her felt like he wasn't dead, but Natasha knew that it was just pointless hope. Even if he was still alive, she had no way of knowing, so he was dead to her anyways.

She rolled over onto her side, and grabbed the silver arrow around her neck out of force of habit. Her now emerald eyes eventually closed, and she fell into a deep sleep soon after.

* * *

He waited for the perfect opportunity. After a check in directions, he knew where Natasha had been headed earlier in the day, and tracked the way to the safe house under the cover of darkness. He knew that she wasn't alone, so going in by the front door wasn't an option; he didn't want to tip off anyone of his arrival just yet. He had to clear it with the Widow first.

Using his tools of the trade, he sent a grappling hook arrow up to the top of the building, then shimmied his way up the line, stopping once he reached the window that he knew was Natasha's. He was glad to find the window unlocked, and climbed inside into her room.

He caught sight of her figure sleeping peacefully on a mattress on the floor, and smiled, for the first time in almost a year, he was in the same room as his best friend, and possibly the only person he could trust.

Clint placed his bag on the ground, careful not to make a noise, then slipped off his jacket and utility belt, keeping on his t-shirt and black pants. He strode over to where Natasha lay, and kneeled beside her head. He eased the gun out from under her pillow, and checked for any weapons near by, before he gently placed a hand on her arm.

Natasha was sitting up in the blink of an eye, ready in a fight position, even though she was on her knees. Due to the moonlight shining throughout the room, she was able to make out the face of the person who had woken her up. Before she could do anything else, she processed one thought.

Clint was alive.

Natasha reached up, and wrapped her arms around Clint's neck, taking in his earthy scent. She felt his warmth close around her, and she became weak with drowsiness. Clint just hugged her back, smiling from ear to ear.

"Clint, oh Clint. You're alive. Oh my god, you're alive."

Natasha could barely get any words out, partly because she was too happy to speak, and partly because Clint was squeezing her so tightly.

"Natasha, I'm so sorry. You had to take on HYDRA all by yourself, Nat, I should've been there with you."

Natasha winced when he called her Nat, then began to laugh.

"No Clint! There was no way you could have been there, it all happened so fast. Plus I had Rogers, but he wasn't you. I've missed you so much; I haven't had anyone call me Nat outside the field since after New York."

Clint and Natasha were still sitting with their arms wrapped around each other, completely oblivious to the world. Neither of them spoke much, because there wasn't much to say. They had the other in their arms, and that was enough for them. Eventually Clint pulled away, so that he could kiss Natasha on her forehead. She was trying hard not to cry.

"Clint, are you alright?" she asked, as he ran his eyes over her, taking in her appearance.

He gave her a half grin. "I'm alright now," he replied. Natasha sharpened her eyes at him, for she had noticed the bags under his eyes, and the bruises and cuts visible on his exposed skin.

"Clint," she said in a stern voice. He rolled his eyes at her, but kept his smile on.

"Come on, Tasha, just let me lie down for a while, and I'll be okay."

Natasha didn't drop her gaze, but leaned back, and let Clint crawl up beside her. The mattress wasn't very big, so the two were pretty scrunched together, but they didn't mind at all. Clint kept his arms wrapped around her, while Natasha tucked her head underneath his chin. Clint let out a content sigh, finally relaxing after being on edge for at least a month.

"Clint."

"Mmh."

"What happened?"

"Can't this wait until tomorrow Nat? The only thing I want to do right now is sleep with you right by my side."

"No, it can't wait. Tell me now."

Clint sighed, and gave in. He stroked Natasha's hair as he told his story.

"I was on mission in Germany when the call came in that Fury was dead, and that he was possibly involved in some dirty stuff. Then I heard that Steve was declared an outlaw, and that you two were on the run, and I knew something must be up. You wouldn't just drop everything in S.H.I.E.L.D. and go on the run unless you had a good reason to. Then Roger's speech came over the line. I guess some brave soul broadcasted it onto the S.H.I.E.L.D. frequencies as well, because I heard it, and realized what was going on. HYDRA had infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D., and we were going down. The German guy that I was supposed to be dealing with took off, because he thought I might be a double agent, and I didn't blame him; everyone was turning on everyone else.

"I dropped everything and looked for a way back to Washington, where I hoped that I could find you, but I got a call from Hill, who told me that you'd taken off, among other things. She told me that Steve's best friend was back from the dead, that someone named Sam Wilson a.k.a. the Falcon helped play an instrumental part, and that Pierce was with HYDRA the whole time. I asked her about Fury, and she told me where he's buried. I knew then that he wasn't dead."

Natasha looked up at Clint.

"How?"

"Because, Hill was so adamant that he was dead, that it was as if I was suggesting otherwise. She was trying to convince me without a doubt that Fury was dead, and that made me realize that he really wasn't. He's not, right?"

Natasha grinned, and nodded.

"No, Nick's not down yet. He scared the hell out of me though. I thought for sure we had lost him."

"God, that would have been like losing Phil all over again."

Natasha froze, and her eyes grew huge. Clint didn't know yet that in the very building that he was now laying in, his older mentor was just below him, peacefully asleep. Natasha wasn't sure whether or not she should tell Clint now or not, but decided to wait until morning; Coulson was probably still out cold, and Natasha wanted a night with just her and Clint. Plus, she felt like Clint needed a good night's rest before he went through another emotional toll.

Clint hadn't noticed that Natasha had seized up.

"Who are the girls that I saw you earlier with?" he asked, making Natasha come back down into reality.

"Oh, that's Skye and Jemma. They're friends of a friend that needed a little help. I'll introduce you tomorrow. They're S.H.I.E.L.D. agents too."

Clint nodded, then adjusted his hold on Natasha. He breathed in the sweet scent that clung to her body and smiled as her hair tickled his nose.

"Oh yeah, what's with the blonde hair?"

"Oh. That. Well, I guess you know by now that all of my secrets have been uploaded online, courtesy of me? Yeah, I kind of had to go into hiding, and that didn't really work out well, because the agents that I told you about found me, so long story short I'm now stuck as a blonde until it grows out again."

Clint grinned.

"Maybe not. If you're nice, I'll let you use some of this red hair dye that I bought today from a nice gentleman who owned a cart."

Natasha laughed, and propped up an elbow so that she could look at her partner.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I love your hair. You know how mad I was when I found out that you had dyed it?"

"Oh, I bet you were very mad," teased Natasha as she laid her head back down on Clint's chest.

""I was! I almost fell out of my tree!"

"Oh, you poor little birdie!"

Clint smiled as Natasha laughed. He was happy to be able to hear her tease him again, and even happier that he was able to hear her laugh again. Once they both calmed down and silence fell between them, Natasha reached over and grabbed onto Clint's hands.

"I've missed you Clint."

"I've missed you too Natasha."

Clint kissed the top of her head, and they both lay there, wrapped in each others arms, until they fell asleep.


End file.
